


Serving the King of all Hells

by Polar_Bear_Biceps



Category: Defense of the Ancients | Dota, Dota 2
Genre: Corruption, Demons, Lactation, Lactation Kink, M/M, Male Lactation, Praise Kink, Reader-Insert, Scent Kink, Size Difference, Transformation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-14
Updated: 2016-10-14
Packaged: 2018-08-22 08:52:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8280073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Polar_Bear_Biceps/pseuds/Polar_Bear_Biceps
Summary: You've been captured by Doom! He's had his eye on you ever since he and his lackeys destroyed your village, and now you're locked in his dungeons. What could he have planned for you?





	

The penetrating stench of sulfur accompanying the constant feeling of flames licking at skin were the only things announcing Lucifer’s invasion. They were efficient. Not ones for battle cries or violent clashes, these demons murdered everyone capable of putting up a fight, and raped and kidnapped everyone else. You certainly weren’t able to defend yourself when a duo of gargoyle-like demons bashed down your front door, but you didn’t need to. They looked at each other, nodded, and then went off. They returned a bit later, accompanied by a third, much larger demon, whose terrifying visage made you faint on the spot.

You woke up a bit later in a fairly sizable room. You couldn’t really call it a prison cell, it was far too nice for that. A room with gray slab walls and marble flooring, with a wonderfully soft two-person bed at one end and a red, fluffy carpet beneath. There was a bookshelf crammed with tomes, a lounge chair, loveseat and vanity table. There were no windows; the room was illuminated by candles on every flat surface that never seemed to burn up.

There’s a knock at your door. A demon, built and littered with scars, came in and placed a plate of food and a chalice of drink on the floor before leaving, shutting the door behind him. As he trudged through the cobblestone corridors, you could hear his voice echo faintly. “Heh. Lucy always had an eye for the pretty ones.” he mused to himself. You got up off the bed and look at the food. Perfectly roasted venison atop some foreign vegetables you’d never even seen before, with a cup of red wine to wash it all down. The pastor warned of demon food; it was tainted, it would take your body and your mind. Becoming one of them was not on your mind, so you put the food away in a corner somewhere out of sight. After all, if you couldn’t see it, you couldn’t be tempted by it.

Hours pass, or so it felt. The door was locked shut and there didn’t appear to be any way out. In the room were a few jigsaw puzzles, but you got bored after the first one. There were some books, too, but they were all written in a script and language you didn't understand.  
...Your hunger was getting to you. Begrudgingly, you grabbed the food and dug in. Even though it was cold, the venison still tasted amazingly and you wolfed down every bite without noticing. The wine’s gone in an instant, too. It didn’t make you feel any different, oddly enough. Maybe Lucifer didn’t mean ill intent. Maybe he wanted to extract some information from you, and this was his way of getting on your good side. Or maybe he was aiming to use you as a bargaining chip. ‘Surrender the town and the pretty boy won’t get hurt.’ Pfft.

Another half hour trudged along, maybe more. It’s hard to tell. There was another knock at your door, followed by the sound of someone fumbling with keys and the door opening. It's the gruff demon from earlier. “Get up.” he barked, wearing a wicked grin. “Lord Lucifer demands your attendance.” You got up and approached him - anything else seemed unwise - and followed him through the corridors. He held your wrist in a death grip with one hand, just to ensure you won't try anything funny. You were guided through hallways, roomy ones with beautiful crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, with colorful flowers on mahogany end tables and golden torches hanging off walls with expensive-looking wallpaper. The hallways led to more hallways in a very maze-like way. You could see that some of the hallways were connected to dining halls with opulent feasts, while others lead to rooms that looked like armories, filled with demons forever locked in combat. After what seemed like an eternity of walking and your hand turning blue through lack of circulation, you arrived at a positively massive door at the very end of one hallway. The demon guiding you thus far opened the door - which required an amount of strength you certainly couldn’t match - and shoved you inside before closing it. No way out now.

This room was the very definition of extravagance. The walls showed masterfully-crafted frescos depicting incubi raping men and women, gigantic demons brutally tearing people apart… Every sin was depicted in all possible glory. The floors were marble, holding alabaster pillars that stretched all the way to the far-above ceiling. Swords, shields and whole suits of armor, all made of precious metals and studded with gems were on display along one wall. Trophies, most likely. Once you were done with your little sight-seeing tour, your gaze fell to the very end of the room. On a king-size bed lay an eight-foot tall demon, bearing the same face that made you faint back in the village. Worryingly enough, he also bore no clothes. He laid there on his side, head resting on one hand, in a lecherous pose that contrasted his bored expression. The room was thick with a heady sulfur smell that seemed to emanate from Lucifer himself. It clouded your better judgment and drew you farther into the room until you were right at his bedside.

He repositioned himself, laying on his back with one arm behind his head, a pose that showed off his imposing physique so much better. Magnificent hooves lead into thighs that must’ve been as thick as your waist, with a cock so wide that you would barely be able to wrap two hands around it laying limp atop two watermelon-sized balls. Above lied taut, defined abs, and above that were pectoral muscles that seemed to bulge farther away from his frame than you’d expect. Finally, two massively beefy arms that could crush you without breaking a sweat. With his free hand he beckoned you over, and you dared not to disobey.

After an uncomfortable amount of time that you spent admiring his body further, he spoke up. “I have a need that demands it be sated. This need is to be kept top-secret - I shall not allow for it to leave this room.” he boomed. You wondered why someone would confide top-secret information to a prisoner they’ve only just met, but you’re not the King of all Hells. “I lactate,” he continued, “and if I am not milked regularly my pectorals swell up too much for me to comfortably wear my armor. They need to be drained because of this, which is why I require you.” “B-but…” you almost spoke up, but stopped before you got more than a word out. “But what?” he responded, leaning in and sounding genuinely curious. "But why don’t you just use a machine, or an imp or something?” you stuttered. “Excellent question.” he responded warmly. “I don’t use machines because they lack that personal touch. They’re far too rough. I don’t use other demons because my high-ranking officers have better things to do and using random imps would show favoritism, which would cause unruliness in my ranks. There’s other reasons why I use humans, but those are the biggest ones.”

He was done speaking, and everything now laid in your hands. You couldn’t leave - even if you made it to the door, there’s no way you could get it open - so your options were limited to just… leaning down and taking one of those puffy, deep-purple nipples into your mouth. The first thing you noticed was the slight salty tinge they had; Lucifer must’ve gotten sweaty under all that armor. It tasted so virile, and it made your apprehensions fade away slightly. You run your tongue along the soft flesh of his nipple, making sure to savor his taste as much as you can. Audaciously, your tongue travels lower, trailing along his defined but still squishy pec, hoping to take in more of that taste. Your adventure is cut short by a clawed hand gently gripping your chin and holding it in place. You look up at him, and he slowly brings your mouth back to where it should be, a cocky grin on his face. “That is for another time, if you perform your duties well.” His musk was already having an effect on your mind, because you were now convinced you had to drain every single drop from him. Your lips latched onto his nipple, which Lucifer responded to by cradling your head in his palm and nudging you a little deeper. His squishy nipple proved very pliable, and by just sucking a little you managed to get a lot of it in your mouth. After a good thirty seconds or so, the first few drops of milk finally arrived. They were too few and far between for you to really get a taste for them, but they did leave a pleasant heat on your tongue. You wanted more. Your suckling increased in intensity, earning an approving growl from the demon above, and soon those drops turned into a trickle. Oh, how delightfully sinful he tasted. His milk had a richness to them - the kind a decadent chocolate cake would have - and had just the right mix of savory and sweet for you to have no issue drinking more and more. When it hit your tongue, it left a slightly spicy kick that wasn’t in the least bit unpleasant. You kept sucking, even using one hand to knead his titflesh to coax out more milk. The trickle had turned into a veritable flood, which your mouth had trouble keeping up with. Quite often, it would spill out and splash onto the sheets or run down your chest, where it quickly wicked away into your skin. Its taste was overwhelming you, it seemed to be the only thing occupying your mind. All you could think of was his milk and ways to get more of it. After a few more minutes, the flood had ended. You popped off his now sore-looking nipple with an audible pop and looked up expectantly. Lucifer seemed to be on a high he hadn’t quite recovered from yet, so you take his joyous face as a sign of a job well done and move to the other nipple. He’d been tweaking this one with his fingers while you attended his other one, leaving his pec soaked in milk which you lapped up like a dog.

You continued your fervent suckling, Lucifer encouraging you along by gripping the back of your head and shoving it as deep against his tit as he could, all while filling the room with bassy grunts. As you worked to drain the last of his reserves, however, you developed a splitting headache, the pain of which even managing to pierce your milk-addled high. You touched the top of your head to see what was up, and found that little nubby horns were beginning to form. The sheer amount of milk you drank had formed a little bump in your stomach, which was now rapidly disappearing. Aside from the horns, you could also feel an itch on your back as little rudimentary wings broke through. When the spilled milk hit your skin now, it seemed to stain it a pinkish red. Finally, you felt a pain above your rear, which a quick examination pointed out to be a thin spade-tipped tail. The flow subsided, and to your dismay, you were done. Lucifer rubbed the back of your head in appreciation, cooing little compliments. “There’s a good boy. Do you like these new changes?” You look him in the eye and nod vigorously. “Good, good. I was hoping you’d like them. Now, I know I said I don’t let demons take care of this issue, but you’ve proven to be far too good at it. I’ll make an exception just for you. You’ll get a nicer room than the one you have currently, and I’ll call you in when I need you, on occasions like this one. You may go now.”

It took all your willpower to not just latch onto his tit and never let go, but you forced yourself to hop off the bed and walk back to your room. You even managed to get the door open, and with a little squeeze you do confirm that your arms have gotten a little beefier as well. Now to wait until you can serve your master again.


End file.
